Probably Not The Best Idea
by OvaltineAuthor
Summary: It's Death the Kid's first day of Preschool. And seeing as how things are going, it'll probably be his last.


He had been at the school for less than 2 minutes and he was already so upset he could feel himself about to explode. Of course there were a number of things to be upset about when it came to this school.

For starters, the design of the actual building was completely lacking in any symmetry what's so ever. Even the front door had been finger painted so one side had nine blue hand prints, three yellow hand prints, and five red hand prints, (all of which were annoyingly odd numbers) while the other side had only five blue hands, one yellow hand, and thirteen red prints.

It took all of Kid's will power not to grab the door and rip it off it's hinges, which would have been rather frightening for a group of small children to witness.

And then there was the fact that school started at 7:35. Not only was it unbearably early for a young grim reaper who needed his beauty sleep to help neurologically stimulate his brain growth, but it was probably the most asymmetrical time slot anyone could have picked.

_"This school must be run by complete morons! Don't they understand the importance of symmetry! Don't the understand how important it is to start a day precisely eight o' clock sharp!" _Kid fumed in his brain. Up until this point he had done everything in his power to ensure that he woke up at eight o' clock every morning, (making him the first three old in history to ask for an alarm clock for Christmas,) and this stupid school was screwing with his agenda.

But that wasn't even the worse part. The worse part were the unintelligent, drooling idiots who were running about screaming like animals. Idiots who didn't even have the courtesy to let their snot spill out from both nostrils, rather than have it hanging out of one, making the lack of symmetry all the more disgusting.

It drove Kid mad. His tiny fists were balled so tightly he could barely feel his thumbs anymore, and he kept taking very huffy breaths to express his displeasure.

"Alright class," said the moronic asymmetrical teacher. "Today we have a very special friend here for his first time, Lord Death's son, Death the Kid."

The group of very average preschoolers turned to look at Kid, and a barrage of loud questions and comments quickly followed.

"Why does he have stripes on his head?"

"His name sounds so funny!"

"Hey! Hey! Why aren't your hands big and funny like Lord Death's?"

Kid gritted his teeth and glared at the students.

"Now, Now class," the teacher laughed, patting Kid on the shoulder. She didn't notice when Kid quickly whipped out a hanky and cleaned off the place where she had touched him. "You can all talk to Kid during morning recess, for now lets get started with our agenda for today."

She then turned to Kid and smiled. "Sit wherever you like," she said sweetly. "We're all excited for you to be here."

_"When I become a full fledged Grim Reaper, you and your despicable establishment, shall be mowed into dust!"_ Kid threatened silently.

He ended up taking a seat next to a girl with rather long pig tails and a, thankfully, very symmetrical dress. He stared at the supplies in front of him, and his frown grew deeper.

Quickly he began rearranging his crayons so they were color coordinated, chipped all the dry glue off of the bottle, and organized his pencils and such into a very neat display.

_"There were an odd number of pencils,"_ he thought, _"and all the crayon's tips were different sizes, but it'll have to do for now."_

"Alright class," said the teacher. "Today we are going to learn how to write the letter A."

Kid raised an eyebrow. The letter A? The letter _A_? These children really were morons if they didn't already know how to read and write! How did he end up in a school for the mentally challenged! He was going to have a word with his father about this hell hole tonight.

"Kid? Would you like to come up and draw an A for the class?" asked the teacher.

"Oh I'll show you how to draw an A," Kid muttered under his breath. He went up to the board and snatched the chalk away from the teacher, who seemed a little surprised by how quickly he'd grabbed it.

Kid observed the chalk, and for the first time today, liked what he saw. It was brand new, hadn't been used yet. Absolutely perfect. He brought it to the board and slowly dragged it a few millimeters to create a very thin line.

Ahh...the letter A, it was such a symmetrical number. Perfectly balanced on both sides. Kid would make a perfect A so all of his dense classmates could benefit and learn to adore it's symmetry.

A few minutes passed, and Kid hadn't even finished the first line.

"Uh...Kid," the teacher said softly. "If you're having a hard time drawing the A you can sit down and have one of your friends help you,"

"I know how to draw an A!" Kid said loudly, "but if you want a perfect A you have to be patient!"

The teacher was taken aback for a moment, before she smiled warmly. "Oh Kid, it's alright, it doesn't have to be perfect-"

"Are you saying I should settle for mediocrity?" Kid snapped, turning his gold eyes to glare at the teacher. "Are you saying that a beautiful letter like A should be written without care and precision, so the symmetry is not off?"

The teacher stood there for a moment, seemingly shell shocked by the intricate vocabulary.

"What is sematee?" asked one of the kids.

"It's _symmetry_!" said Kid. "And it is when two things that are completely similar in every aspect center around the same axis to create total perfection. To be balanced from all directions!"

The children stared at Kid like his face had suddenly begun to glow alternating neon colors.

"Kid, maybe you should go back to your seat and let me finish the A," the teacher suggested.

"Are you insane!" Kid cried, clutching the chalk to his chest protectively. "And let you sully the hard work I've already accomplished!"

"Alright, Kid that is enough." the Teacher said more firmly.

"You are an insult to true educators who value the art of symmetry!" Kid exclaimed furiously. (These true educators Kid spoke of have yet to be found by anyone, including Kid himself, though that's not through lack of trying mind you.)

"Death the Kid," the teacher said loudly. "You have to the count of three to return the chalk and take your seat, or I will have you sit in a corner in the back."

Kid flinched. three? why couldn't she count to eight. Of course while three was not a very symmetric number, he supposed if you turned it on it's axis so it was more W shaped it had the potential to be perfect.

"1," said the teacher.

Oh that was right, she was going to count. Kid began weighing his options.

"2,"

Imperfect school record and reputation in his future years as a student, or allowing the teacher to massacre the letter A.

"3,"

With a heavy sigh, Kid held out the chalk.

"You do not deserve this pristine piece of symmetry, nor the use of the letter A," he hissed as the teacher took it from him.

She frowned but said nothing, as Kid had already returned to his seat.

"You got in trouble," the girl with the pigtails snickered when Kid sat down.

"Can it," Kid muttered.

"Alright," the teacher sighed. "How about instead of letters we do some free coloring, right now. Everyone take out your crayons.

Kid looked at his crayons and frowned, then raised his hand.

"Yes Kid?" the teacher asked guardedly.

"I'm sorry," Kid said. "But the crayons you have given me are not sharp enough to create a picture of worth, and are therefore unsatisfactory. I request a professional drawing pen, preferably a kind that is archival so my work will not wear over time."

"Draw with your _crayons_, Kid!" the teacher growled.

Kid's face fell, and he looked down at the crayons. The teacher couldn't be serious! How could anyone expect him to draw symmetrically with these disgusting pieces of ear wax. He observed all of the crayons, searching for one that would even be close to suitable. Unfortunately the sharpest one was the orange, and even it was very worn down. Kid picked it up and glared at it.

He could always put it back in the box and refuse to draw anything at all, but that would make him disobedient, which simply wouldn't do.

With a very melodramatic sigh, Kid began drawing very slowly. It took a long while, but his picture began to take shape very nicely. He was so consumed with it, he didn't notice when the teacher handed out cookies and grape juice for snack time.

Not until a cup of grape juice came falling down, and soaking his drawing.

Kid, sat in shock for a split second, the orange crayon snapping in his hand. He then turned to see a chubby boy, with grape juice stains and cookie crumbs coating his chin.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to wreck your drawing."

Several minutes later.

"And you can come out of the corner, when you apologize to Billy for hitting him, and pulling his hair out." the teacher said sternly. She then turned on her heel and stomped away, leaving Kid to ponder his actions in the corner.

"My only regret," thought Kid. "Was forgetting to pull out a hand full of hair on the left side too. Billy's hair was nice and symmetrical before I wrecked it! I'm garbage! Lowly, disgusting, asymmetrical garbage!"

He curled up into a little ball and began crying and sniffling. He wished he was home, where everything was neat and perfect and if he wanted to draw something he wasn't forced to do with those grimy crayons.

Another little girl, who up until this point had been playing with barbies by the dollhouse, noticed Kid crying in the corner. Without thinking to much about it she toddled over to him and tugged on his sleeve, quickly getting his attention.

"You shouldn't cry," she said. "It makes your face look funny."

"I wasn't exactly looking for your opinion," Kid huffed, folding his arms like the prissy little diva he was.

"You use really big words," the little girl said.

Kid looked her up and down. She was wearing a pair of overalls, (which were symmetrical thank god,) but her hair was parted too much to the left, and there was a bow on only the right side.

He gritted his teeth. "Give me your bow!" he said.

"Why?" asked the little girl, who had started sucking on her thumb. Kid couldn't believe he was associating with these people.

"Just give it here," Kid said.

When the girl didn't do as told, Kid quickly snatched the ribbon right off her head causing the girl to yelp in surprise.

"Give it back!" she wailed, her face becoming red as she thrashed her arms around trying to grab her bow.

"I'll give it back in a second," Kid yelled. "Just hold still will you?"

"Give it back, give it back, give it back!" the girl chanted loudly. Kid glanced nervously over in the teacher's direction, hoping she wasn't watching this exchange.

Without thinking he quickly grabbed the girls hair and began to re-do it so the part would be symmetrical. This caused the girl to wail even louder.

"There!" said Kid, as he quickly tied it back in. This time to the center knot matched up perfectly with the part of the girl's hairline.

The girl stopped crying, and instead patted her head a bit, trying to ensure that the bow was indeed back in place.

"Stop touching it, your going to mess it up," Kid snapped, swatting the girl's hands away from her head.

"What did you do that for?" she demanded.

"You were asymmetrical so I fixed you," Kid explained calmly.

The girl blinked. "Huh?"

"Hey, girly boy!" one of the boys who had noticed Kid restyling the little girl's hair, yelled. "I didn't know you liked to do hair, maybe you should but some bows in your hair too so nobody can see your dumb lines!"

Several more minutes later...

"Death the Kid," the teacher shouted. "If I have to send you to this chair one more time for hurting a child, I will call your father and tell him about what a bad boy you are being."

"Please," Kid sighed. "Like the Lord of Death itself would have time to talk to a preschool teacher." The teacher didn't seem to hear him though as she walked away without any further reprimands.

Kid rubbed his forehead with a groan. He felt a migraine a coming on, a really bad one.

_"This preschool teacher should be punished for her asymmetrical insolence." _

"How come, you keep beating people up?" asked the little girl, who had wandered over to where Kid was sitting again.

Kid chose not to answer her, and instead focused his attention on the rag doll the girl was holding.

"Is that yours?" Kid asked.

"Yep," said the little girl proudly. "Her name is Skittles."

Kid chose not to focus on the doll's poorly chosen name, and instead asked, "Can I see her for a moment?"

The girl looked at the doll, then back at Kid, and tentatively handed the doll over.

Kid observed the doll, turning it a few different directions and comparing the left and right sides. After a moment, he drew back with a wide grin on his face.

"Oh it's perfect!" he gushed. "I've never seen such craftsmanship, so balanced, and yet so simple. It is a beautiful contribution to symmetry itself."

"Uh...Okay..." the little girl said, looking quite confused. "C-can i just have her back now?"

"Sure, sure," said Kid, handing the doll back to the girl, who quickly held it close. "Just make sure you take care of it, and don't let anything spoil how beautiful it is."

"Okay," the little girl said again, even though it was painfully obvious she wasn't listening to one word Kid was saying.

"Hey!" shouted the same boy who had made fun of Kid's hair. "I didn't know you like dolls too, you whiner pretty boy."

Kid frowned as the other boy came closer, a idiotic smirk on his face. "Do you like dress-up, and ponies, and pink, and ponies too?" the boy mocked.

"Alright is everyone here a complete imbecile!" Kid demanded. "I mean you said 'ponies' twice!"

"Your just jealous cause I'm smarter dhen you!" the little boy smiled.

Kid turned away. "I have nothing to say to you," he sniffed.

However the little boy had become disinterested in Kid and instead chose to pick on the little girl who had been standing idly by, all this time.

"Is this your girlfriend?" he snickered, pointing at her. "Is this your baby?" he grabbed the doll out of the girl's hands.

"Give her back!" the girl wailed, her face turning red again. "Give Skittles back!"

Kid instantly spun around again. "Give the doll back," he warned, his eyes growing darker and more dangerous.

"Why?" the boy laughed. "Afraid I'm going to hurt it?"

"No don't!" the little girl sobbed, thrashing her arms at the boy.

"Whoops!" the boy yanked on the arm of the doll, and the seams holding the shoulder together ripped.

Suddenly Kid was seeing Red.

"YOU DISGUSTING PIECE OF GARBAGE! YOU MAKE ME SICK! HOW DARE YOU! YOU DON'T DESERVE TO EXIST!"

Several hours later

"Well Lord Death," said Sid as he read the note the preschool teacher had given him. "According to this, Kid will never be allowed back into the school again, and the parents of the boy who's ribs he broke are threatening to sue us."

"You know maybe preschool wasn't such a good idea to begin with," said Death as he slouched over by the mirror. "I'm not sure Kid really understands the environment."

"That and your son is a little cuckoo," said Sid. "His obsession with symmetry is borderline insane...That and on the way home he kept threatening to burn the school to the ground."

"Maybe we should think about therapy," Death sighed.

"That or confinement," laughed Stein who'd been sipping coffee in the background. "We could put him in a nice symmetrical padded room, and maybe every once in a while I could go in and-"

"You aren't dissecting him," said Sid and Death in unison.

The Next Day

"Anna, you got a package in the mail!"

The little girl looked up from her tinker toys in interest when her mother placed a large package in front of her.

"Open it up and see what's inside," her mother smiled.

Without thinking, the girl began to shred the wrappings to pieces until she reached the contents.

Her face lit up in excitement.

"SKITTLES!" she cried happily, scooping the doll up and holding it tightly. It had disappeared yesterday after it had been ripped up, and Kid had attacked that other boy. She had been worried she'd never see it again.

Inside the package was an incredibly neat note, that looked as though it had taken hours to write out.

It said,

_I fixed the doll, and it was a lot of work too. I ended up having to patch up both sides so the symmetry would stay as perfect as ever. Please continue to take good care of it, and do not bring it to that wretched school anymore._

_Sincerely,_

_Death The Kid_

Of course, Anna payed virtually no attention to the note whatsoever. She couldn't read, so whatever was written on it, made no difference to her.

End

* * *

><p>AN: I love the idea of chibi Death the Kid. Although I can see why it's not done very often since he really is a mature little guy isn't he? The two names were things I came up with on the fly. Billy, since Billy the Kid was one of the inspirations for Kid, and Anna since it is a perfectly symmetrical name.

I remember hating Preschool too, so I hope this didn't come out too bitter. I feel really bad for that teacher, and all the other teachers of Soul Eater preschoolers, (particularly whoever was Black*Star's teacher.)

Uh Oh...I think I feel a sequel comin' on. :)


End file.
